Why did the chicken cross the road I’ll…

Why did the chicken cross the road?

I’ll get to the answer in a minute. First, let me give you a little background music, set to the tune of what inspired me to finally write about this deep, dark secret. I think many of us harbor this one, in particular, but no one really ever talks about it. Naturally, I felt the need. I am absurdly, morbidly, almost disgustingly curious about death. It occupies more of my time than anyone would think. I’ll be driving down the road, headed to the store, and imagine that my windshield splices into a million pieces and kills me. It’s always been a little bit ‘Final Destination’, too (even way before the movie came out). I was about twelve, or thirteen, at a pool party for our church, daydreaming about how, if I slipped, and fell forward onto the concrete, my jaw would splatter, into my brain cavity and kill me. Honestly, I think I just hope it’s quick. Anyhow, I’ve been killed so many times, in my mind (whether awake or asleep), that death doesn’t particularly bother me. I just wish I knew what was out there.

People throw around the terms of death so casually, assuming reincarnation and whatnot, that these terms have lost validity through overuse and misuse. If energy is constant, and we are energy, stemming from an origin of that energy (a source, of some kind; call it whatever you want, God/Allah/Yahweh/plain undefinable/Shiva/Kali/Sasquatch; I don’t give a shit what you call it, it’s the same damn thing) we must be a part of it, a continuation in and of ourselves. We must be an extension of that unconstrained energy, floating along, creating as we go and destroying, in turn.

There was this one time (at band camp)… No, but seriously, once, at an open mike poetry night in Atlanta, we were all asked, “If we came across a Genie, who was willing to grant us three wishes, what would be our second wish?” It’s an intriguing question, in that, the first wish is knee-jerk, and the last wish is going to be the one you think about the most, truly careful consideration, so that the second, arguably, is what you actually want the most. There were superficial answers; like, wanting to see David Beckham naked, not a bad wish, but still, superficial. There was love-of-my-life stuff, which I won’t go into, here, and wishes of Fruity Pebbles and rainbows (seriously; it was  a mostly gay crowd; the Beckham thing was actually a dude), and publishing grants with benefits.

I think mine bugged people a little. I was actually never asked back. My second wish from a Genie, the truest to my heart, was to know what it is to die, without actually having to. Someone said, “Wow, that’s deep,” after a full three-minute hush had fallen over the coffee shop. What…I’m curious. I know, I know, the damn cat, and all that jazz. I just don’t think the afterlife is terribly close to the Sunday School version, and I want to know if we just keep going, like the Energizer Bunny, but, better.

The way I look at it, matter is a trick. If we can learn to see beyond it, maybe we’ll finally know what the hell’s really going on. Money, in the grand scheme of things, is less than nothing. It’s paper. It’s supposed to be worth something, but it’s still, just paper. We’re all just a story, a molding of our collective consciousness, to supplement a much bigger tale. The Universe, full of wonder, confusion and lastly (though, certainly not least) other Us’s (is it an apostrophe, or an ‘ses’…have they made a rule for that one, yet?). We make up the fabric of reality, and if that’s not “God’s Image”, I don’t know what is.

So why, oh why, did the fabled chicken cross the road?

To get to the other side.

Not “of the road”, mind you. Just, “the other side”. I’m guessing that fucker got run over, from the get-go.